Tomorrow’s  Thanksgiving, but also the kickoff to what’s euphemistically referred to as the “Holidays.” All over the U.S., porches, front doors, topiary and gutters will be stripped of all evidence of the traditional “harvest” icons, ie, mums, hay bales, dried corn and cornstalks, as well as those apple-cheeked smiling scarecrows (and quite frankly, their sun-toasted perkiness does scare me), to be summarily replaced with dangling icicle lights, revolving reindeer, inflatable Sno-Dome elves on Merry-Go-Rounds, and other assorted yard horrors that symbolize the high-water mark of tackiness until we ring in the New Year. As for me, I’ll save my Yule celebrations until around the 24 of next month to focus on the holiday at hand, ie, family, friends, turkey and pumpkin pie, maybe even giving a thanks or two I’m still highbrow enough to cringe at the sight of Santa on a Harley.

So that’s it. No soapbox, no bitching on the obvious, just full-frontal indulgence and Pepcid post pumpkin-pie. Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours, and you have my permission to suspend NaNoWriMo for one day. As if you needed an excuse.